Forgetting To Remember
by Goldbryn Callow Lyte
Summary: After the surgery, Glitch wakes up with no memory of who he is, where he is, and why he's even in a Medi-lab...he's also forgotten alot of other information as well. How will his friends cope and will they help Glitch recover? eventual cain/glitch
1. Hard Words To Swallow

Had this in mah head for a while

Had this in mah head for a while...finally decided to start on it...  
PS. Also working on my fic "Shattered." huzzah

Title: Forgetting to Remember  
Chapter Title: Hard to Swallow Words  
Rating: PG (eventual R)  
Genre: Drama (eventual Humor and even...Romance?)

Scenario:  
The surgery was successful...no physical damage occured...but what would happen if when he woke up, Glitch remembered nothing? How will the others cope with the fact that there's a strong chance that he'll never get all his memories back? Can DG remind him of his kindness? Can the Queen remind him of his brilliance? Can Cain remind him of their feelings? His feelings?

"He's showing signs of both global and source amnesia."

"What?" snapped Cain angrily.

"Global and –" started the alchemist.

"We got _that_ much!" Snapped Cain again—this time with an impatient sigh. "What we haven't got is what that _means_."

"What it means, _Mister_ Cain, is his memory is gone." The alchemist shuffled a few papers he had in his hand and returned his gaze back to the group in front of him. "Global amnesia is the term we give to patients who have a total lapse in brain function that causes them to forget almost everything. People, places, things, names…anything about themselves…all gone." He sighed.

"How did this happen, Doctor?" Spoke the Queen in a small and quivering voice. Ahamo draped an arm over her shoulders, her hand reaching up to grip his own.

The Alchemist frowned sadly. "We did warn him and all of you of the dangers from the procedure."

"But what you're describing is the worst case scenario! It's the thing that was least likely to occur." DG was nearly beside herself. If it weren't for the presence of her sister beside her, she was sure she'd have gotten up and shaken the alchemist harshly, hoping answers would tumble out of him.

"You're right princess, but we still knew it was a possibility. When we reintroduced his then current half with the one that was taken from him, we knew there'd be some possibilities of memory lapse and amnesia…"

"—But not to this extent right?" finished Ahamo.

"Correct. It seems that the two halves, when remerged, caused his brain to, in layman's terms, 'shut down.'" He held up his hands, one still clutching papers, and mimed a set of air-quotation marks as he said the word 'shut down'. "It essentially rebooted empty, as though the two halves were so different they cancelled each other out. What we _don't_ know at this point and time is if the memories are simply locked away in his subconscious or if they've been lost entirely."

"What difference?" Came a soft voice from the corner of the room—A corner which Raw had occupied since they first arrived _hours_ ago when they heard their friend had finally woken. He had been in a drug induced coma for days following the surgery to ensure that brain waves and functions were regular and healthy. And to not put unneeded strain on his mind and body..

"Well…" The alchemist briefly shifted from one foot to the other. "If they are merely locked in his subconscious then they could eventually be recalled. It could be from dreams, photographs (At this DG glanced worriedly over at Cain and Raw…There were no photos of them from their escapade through The OZ), or even simple things like words, smells, or familiar activities." He bit down on his lip as he watched the sullen faces of all the people before him. He _hated_ giving news like this…it hurt. "But if they're not, then—then there's little hope of him ever recalling any of his past memories."

Faces fell, eyes shown with unshed tears, and bodies slumped heavier in their seats. Cain started to pace.

"Okay…what was that second one you mentioned?"

For a moment the alchemist looked confused. But after a quick glance down to the wrinkled papers in his hand he gave his head a small shake and sighed. "Sorry…forgot about that."

Cain raised an eyebrow.

"Well, what I said he seemed to have along with the global amnesia is something we call "Source Amnesia." It's actually a positive sign in the outlook of the patient's recoverable memory."

Everyone seemed to brighten slightly. There was hope?

"Now don't all jump to conclusions, but it's a good sign. Source amnesia presents itself in the way of random facts of information without the patient knowing exactly where they came from. These can act as catalysts to him in remembering certain things."

"Okay, so what exactly is he remembering?" DG asked curiously, Azkadelia nodding beside her in agreement.

"He remembers how to speak, how to walk, how to follow simple instructions…his vocabulary is also still quite vast. This means that there are _some_ things that have been retained while others were lost or forgotten. He has though, on a slightly negative note, has forgotten a number of basic terms used to name objects."

"Like…?"

"Bed." They all looked confused. "He didn't know what he was laying in so we had to reeducate him what it was called."

"Odd." Raw mused to himself.

"Very." Continued the alchemist. "But what it could mean is that there's a little bit more hope." The doctor turned and walked to a door that was at the end of the "waiting room" that everyone was (and had been for hours) occupying. "If he can retain this information and make and keep new memories, then is points to not having brain damage and being able to expand his current knowledge. Always a good sign."

He put his hand on the door handle, turning to look at everyone in the room.

"Now, I only ask that small numbers go in at any time—One or two people preferably. His brain is still sensitive and he might also be in some pain from the surgery. All I ask is that you don't barrage him with information or questions about what he remembers. He is quite stable, considering what's happened, but we don't want him to panic or become overwhelmed."

Heads nodded in agreement, murmuring their consent to do as told.

"Now…who's going in first?"


	2. Empty

Look

Look...a second chapter! I just can't stop putting glitch in these horrible situations.

I wanna go ahead and just say WHY I'm writing this one...The brain is a VERY delicate piece of equipment. I wholeheartidly believe that the act of taking out half of it's parts then trying to put them back together is like smashing up a clock then hoping it still runs when you put things where they _should_ be. Whats to say he'd not be veggie...I don;t like the idea of veggies, so I decided to do a, what I call, "Memory Reboot" and then focus on how it affects him, his life and his friends.  
P.S. please note that not once have I said he's permanently this way...we'll just see how it turns out yeah? I can tell you it won't be one of those pieces where he suddenly remembers EVERYTHING after he hears cain's name or voice, or is kissed the first time, or is taken to his lab...blah blah...realism...I love it...it's so chock full of emotion and stuff!!  
ENJOY!

and please tell me if you like it or hate it or wish I'd burn it. It helps me. I swear.

Title: Forgetting To Remember  
Chapter title: Empty  
Rating: Still only PG (for now...mwahahahaa Oo)  
Disclaimer: Not mine...only story idea...cause I can't stop torturing glitchie...I am sorry  
Summary: The surgery was a succes, but upon waking they discover that Glitch has accquired a nice big case of amnesia. What will the others do to help him, and how will things change if it turns out that the memory loss may be permanant?

community./glitchwyatt/257363.html

Chapter 2: Empty

It was an odd feeling this emptiness in his mind. He felt a little more comfortable with it then he knew he should be—like it was just a different chapter of the same book.  
He found that when he tried to pull up memories or certain knowledge, he got an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach like he was standing in a rocking boat over a vast lake…had he ever ridden in a boat? How did he know what it felt like to be in one?...The shores of the lake were obscured with fog and smoke while the water itself was murky. He _knew_ things were lurking just beyond his vision and just behind the veil of wispy fog. He _knew_ there were rocks and creatures beneath the boat and trees beyond the mist—just like he knew the dark spaces of his mind held things like the names of people, his favorite color and food, who his parents were, where he was from, and other such seemingly unimportant things he had more than likely taken for granted at some point in his life.

He found that laying there on that 'bed' with nothing to occupy his thoughts made him extremely irritated and anxious when he first awoke. After a few splitting head aches from pushing himself to near unconsciousness by trying to mentally seek out his own lost memories, he found that just accepting what was happening left him felling better and less likely to start hyperventilating.

The doctor had told him that this was good…he made mention that a nervous breakdown could make things far worse. He even said something about a cat and gin…or was it tonic? Either way, he had no idea what the doctor was prattling on about.

It had only been a few days since he woke up, but each day dragged out into an eternity. The day he awoke, the day they told him the news was probably the worse. He had put on a brave face, still not sure what was going on or what had happened even _after_ the doctor had explained.

There had been visitors. He remembers that. The visits were short and quick…the doctor seemed to know that he might not be as stable as he had once thought.

The first ones allowed in were a couple that just seemed to be made of higher-class stuff than what he felt like. He was sure there had been a mistake. They were kind and polite, asking him how he was and letting him know how happy they were he was alright. They had told him nothing of who he was though…and his silence told them he was uncomfortable…They might have been old friends, but now they were new strangers.

They left, and the next small group shuffled in.

The two girls were smiling even though their cheeks were tear stained. The first one hugged him and he was surrounded by a sudden wave of warmth. She felt much more familiar than the 2 previous visitors, though why he was unsure. The other girl seemed happy, but very distant. He was trying to work out why he felt the need to call out to her and tell her it wasn't her fault (_what's not her fault? This?...)_, when he realized they had said their goodbyes and were giving him a light hug in turn with promises of visiting again real soon.

As soon as they were gone, he wanted them back even if he was feeling crummy.

A nurse shuffled in with a small cup of water and some pills. She made him take the giant pills and announced that he had one final group there to see him.

He felt much more prepared then he had for the first couple.

This last group consisted of some sort of feral and furry man, a rather stoic and stony-faced blonde, and a dog. The dog leapt from the furry man's arms and landed nimbly on his bed where he rushed up and planted his cold nose upon a bewildered amnesia patient.

This last visit left him feeling exhausted and he his fuzzy brain could not supply why. The furry man had reached over and, saying not a single word, just laid a hand on his arm and smiled. The smile was returned and he felt a similar warmth rush through him like that of the previous girls. The stony man looked like a crumbling mountain and nearly shattered when he was asked who they all were.

No names had been given yet.

Was it the doctor's orders? Did they not think he could handle such menial things?

But there was no answer from any of them. The tall man turned on his heel and left the room as quickly and quietly as he had entered. The furry man only sighed and, gently squeezing a pale shoulder, left to follow. The dog barked happily…the only noise besides his own voice since they arrived…and pressed a cold nose to his hand again before jumping off the bed and skittering through the cracked door.

With the door clicking shut behind them all, he felt the sudden anxious fluttering of his heart return, and took a deep and shuddering breath to try and calm himself. But the shaking continued despite his best efforts and unbidden, tears began to trickle down his cheeks. The faces of all his visitors swam into his mind's eye and he tried so desperately to think of their names…to dredge up their pasts, their likes, their dislikes…_anything…ANYTHING!_

But he couldn't.

The tears came harder and his breathing hitched as he drew his knees up to his chin.

It was an odd feeling…this emptiness….


	3. Interim

This is just an "in between" piece

This is just an "in between" piece...not much going on...just bridging gaps. I just didn't want the chapters to start being so very very long, so I chopped my chapter 3 into two different chapters.

note: bouncing on the bed IS fun...doesn't matter who you are --

Title: Forgetting To Remember  
Chapter title: Interim  
Rating: Still only PG (for now...mwahahahaa Oo)  
Disclaimer: Not mine...only story idea...cause I can't stop torturing glitchie...I am sorry  
Summary: The surgery was a success, but upon waking they discover that Glitch has acquired a nice big case of amnesia. What will the others do to help him, and how will things change if it turns out that the memory loss may be permanent?

lemme know...love it? hate it? wish it were taken out to the street and shot? your reviews can only make it better!

Chapter 3: Interim

The following days after the visits were fraught with obstacle after obstacle. The biggest of which was getting Ambrose to stop overreacting when he couldn't remember something asked in his therapy sessions.

These outbursts happened more and more rarely over the course of a few days, but it had set the nurses and the doctor all on edge.

Luckily the medicine he had taken that first day made him drift off into a rather uneasy sleep after the visits, and before they all caught sight of his small break down. He figured if they had, he'd be on even more medications.

Ambrose sighed softy, watching his toes skim the cold floor of his room as he swung his feet back and forth. He was so very tired of just lying around during the time in between his sessions.

His first week was the worst…at least that's what he thought. Through that first week his body was getting used to the medications he was being practically force-fed, he was fighting back an overwhelming urge to scream every time he tried to scrabble at the edge of a fleeting memory or every time he felt that odd sense the doctors called "de ja vu," he wasn't allowed anymore visitors aside from the nurses and the doctor (he figured after a good few days of no visitors again that the doctor _had_ seen his collapse), and he found himself fighting off a near stifling boredom.

But that was all about to change.

He bounced gently on the edge of his bed then, casting a glance around him, practically threw himself back into a full bed-bounce that made the bed's frame to clatter and clank noisily. He did it again and laughed to himself, feeling immature but happy. He knew the doctor would disapprove, but he got barely any exercise and his head had stopped throbbing when he moved too sharply.

And the bed was so soft and bouncy (he assumed) for a hospital bed.

The silence that followed was comfortable and Ambrose settled back against his pillows and watched the clock on the far wall.

He'd be here shortly.

After what seemed like mere moments, there was a soft knock at the door and it swung open for the young doctor who had been practically babysitting him for the last week and a half.

"How are we feeling today?" He smiled brightly and pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat.

"I'll be even better when I get a change of scenery." Ambrose replied as he sat up straighter, adjusting the pillows to support him. "I'm going stir crazy with nothing to do."

"What about all those puzzle books we gave you?"

"Finished'em, like, that night."

"Hmm." The doctor scrabbled something on his clipboard. "And the math workbooks?"

"Done." Another scribble. Ambrose leaned forward lightly biting his lip as he craned to see what the doctor was writing without being too obvious, but a sheet of paper fluttered back over his notes as the doctor sat up and smiled brightly up at Ambrose.

"Your cognitive skills and abilities are still quite astounding." He shuffled through the papers again and looked back up. "And your retention of new information is also a very good sign."

"So…that means I get to leave soon?" The excitement in his voice was barely contained.

"Not necessarily." Ambrose's face fell and the doctor laughed causing the frown on Ambrose's face to deepen and his cheeks color. "No, no, don't be like that." He waved his hand as that would wave away Ambrose's anger. "We need to take things in levels. You _will_ get a change of scenery, but in the form of a more," he seemed to search for a word as he indicated the room around him. "er…hospitable room in one of the upper rooms of the palace."

_PALACE!?_ His mind screamed and he had to beat back the sudden impulse to cheer joyfully. He had been told that's where they were, but the sudden knowledge he'd get to actually see it for himself made him so happy and relieved he just wanted to explode. He was hoping he'd actually get to see things that might jog his memory…

The doctor didn't seem to even register Ambrose's glee. "It will be of course monitored and treated like another sick room, just until you are well enough to move back into your own private quarters. _My own _private_ quarters…_Ambrose's heart fluttered. "They should be ready with your new room within the week. They're having to install the monitoring equipment so we don't have to make useless trips down here everyday."

Ambrose let the idea that he'd be in this sterile and all too familiar room for another couple of days sink in. He wanted to get out…he wanted to explore…he wanted some color on the damn walls…Maybe some green or blue…he had been quite taken with those colors when he had been shown large swatches of them during one of his sessions. It had saddened him when he realized he didn't know their names.

"Until then, we're going to allow visitors again. They've been watching your progress and we've been keeping them up to date on—" but what he was saying was drown out by the heart beats that suddenly sprang to life in Ambrose's ears. The last visit hadn't gone that well, but he couldn't stop thinking about those people that came to visit him. He had not mentioned them since they left and the doctors and nurses never brought them up.

Perhaps they understood that not remembering someone you loved and who loved you hurt more than anything that could be done to a person short of killing them…and he was almost sure he'd take the being killed than enduring not knowing them anymore.

"So I get to see them again!?" Ambrose nearly shouted, cutting straight through something the doctor was rambling on about. He eyed his patient dubiously, looking for some sign of discomfort or agitation—but there was only childlike curiously and delight.

He nodded with a smile. "If you still feel up for it, they'll be allowed visits around lunch time."

Ambrose could barely contain himself.

He'd get to finally meet his friends.

_End chapter 3…aka…part 2.5…but we're just gonna call it chapter 3. That cool?_

_What on earth could happen next?! Will Glitch remember anything? Will these visits go smoother? Will Cain speak? Will our Ambrose choose that name or his nickname? Is DG planning something? Is Cain STILL gonna brood?(uh…duh)_

_Find out the answers to these and other questions in the next chapter…cause I'm writing it now…yarr!_

_-bryn_


End file.
